


Honey Combs

by cablecurrent



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe- Christmas market, Loki Needs a Hug, Loki hates people, Loki is a beekeeper, Loki-centric, Odin's A+ Parenting, Past Non-Con, The Author Regrets Nothing, Thor Is Not Stupid, Thor is just a guy, Thor sees the positive in everything, Thor's friends are horrible, honey guy Loki, loki is a little shit, the author is a little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 01:42:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3363110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cablecurrent/pseuds/cablecurrent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki really hates people. He prefers the company of his bees. Sadly, and god knows why, he runs a honey shop on the annual Christmas market where there are more people than there is air to breath. But this year there’s this beautiful stranger that turns up out of nowhere. And this man might just show him that not everything is as hateful as it seems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honey Combs

**Author's Note:**

> So this has actually been written for the lovely sariichii, because we were wandering around the Christmas market and ended up in this honey shop rather accidently, which led to the idea for this fic. I love you, you creep!
> 
> Anyways, since English is not my first language I would be very happy if someone would help me correct the mistakes I most definetly made, because I tend to not notice mistakes until they are pointed out to me.  
> Enough said, I hope you enjoy the ride, even though Christmas is already over :3

Honey combs 

It’s the first of December and Loki casually hangs the plate plainly saying “Honey” up over the doorframe of the tiny wooden cabin between the tea and the blacksmith stand. It’s not really cold yet so he doesn’t feel the need to wear gloves and his pale bare hands look white in the sun as he moves the plate to the right a bit to fix its crooked posture. 

To his right he can hear the blacksmith arranging his anvil on top of the heavy log that serves as a table of some sorts, his multiple tongs and tools clinking, a taste of metal on ones tongue if one happened to walk by. 

From his left the delicate scent of the tea and spices tent fade over to where he is standing. It is not a certain smell to be exact, not like sweet or spicy you can tell by just one sniff, it is rather an intricate blend of hundreds of different herbs, dried leaves and exotic seasonings all diffusing together into a new and unique sort of fragrance, tantalizing and relaxing at the same time. The cool wind doesn’t do much in blowing the interesting scents over to where he is situated but he likes to revel in the delicate dance of aromatic smells once in a while.

Loki sets up his little honey shop every year on the Christmas market, always on the first of December when the cold hasn’t ventured that far into the country yet, always between the blacksmith and the tea and spices, always with the same plain plate hanging above the door that is slightly lighter than the rest of his cabin. 

The door opens up into a cozy space.  
The interior of the cabin is hanged with light dark green tapestry and with the winter sun shining through the two windows that face the east and the ones allocated on the ceiling the light creates the illusion of an inner glow from inside the wood.  
On the left there is a narrow wooden counter with a woven basket full of flasks containing Bernstein colored honey schnapps next to a plump green candle that lights the arrangements of leather bags filled with change and in the middle there are two rows of steps leading to a gallery of shelves packed with jars and jars full of golden honey.

There is honey with an almost translucent color and a very fragile sweetness to its mild, floral taste and there is also honey colored a dark rich brown with the heady aroma of musk and fir needles woven into its thick texture.

There are honeys so clear as if made out of stained liquefied glass and there are honeys that seem to be mixed with thousands and thousands of tiny crushed crystals that glow in the reflected sunlight.

Whatever type of honey one wants, Loki sells it. In his tiny shop he has carefully assembled what seems like all the types of honey in the world and for a month his little cabin becomes a gathering of worldly delicacies each and every one of them bringing out the unique character of its land of origin, before he breaks down the hut and travels back to the outer skirts of the city, leaving the seas of people and flurry of society behind for another year.

Loki has been a beekeeper for as long as he can remember. Adopted at the age of 2, both his adoptive parents have raised him in the company of bees at the edge of the city. He learned the ways and secrets of beekeeping at a very young age and young and fascinated he was, remembering everything his parents told him with insatiable curiosity.  
There have always been bees in Loki’s life. 

Bees aren’t a lot like people. They don’t fight over petty things, they don’t start wars because of inane reasons and they don’t stick their noses into every personal affair. Since his parents left the world one summer’s day eight years ago, he’d been alone with his inherited piece of land and the bees.  
Beside his parents the bees have been more of a family to him than all the other people that had visited his lands once in a while or the ones that bought his honey, thus there aren’t a lot of people he is comfortable enough with to call friends. He doesn’t make a fortune with his business as he refuses to work with bigger companies like most independent beekeepers do sooner or later, but he earns enough for a living and that’s everything he needs.

Only once a year he heads to the inner city and sets up his honey shop at the edge of the Christmas market. He mostly keeps to himself.  
Loki grew up as a loner and he is perfectly content this way.

~*~

It’s raining when he first meets Thor.

It’s the fifth of December and the steady downpour has stained the skies a morose gray and the sun is having a hard time trying to pierce the heavy wet veil of rain.

There aren’t many people on the Christmas market with this kind of weather and Loki is sitting behind his counter engrossed in a book thinking about closing his shop for the day, when the little silver bell above the door rings, indicating a customer. He shortly wonders who would dare to disturb him now when he is just about to call it a day when he looks up to the stranger flashing him a brilliant smile. 

It is a rather tall man Loki thinks, taller than he himself and with his 6’4” that’s quite an accomplishment. The stranger has golden blonde hair that curls down to his broad shoulders where it isn’t tied into a rather messy ponytail at the back of his head and he is wearing a dark brown leather coat over heavy black fur lined boots.  
He is also dripping wet and forming an impressive puddle on the floor.  
Loki throws a dry towel at the strangers face, so that he might stop soaking the good wood.

The man eyes the towel in surprise. Then he rubs the fabric over his dripping head and smiles at Loki again.

“Thank you” he says in a deep rich baritone that makes his skin tingle.

Loki lowers his head and continues reading his book.

 

Half an hour later the rain has seemingly only intensified and the man is still there wandering around the shelves carefully reading the labels of the different sorts of honey as he goes. Strangely Loki doesn’t even feel bothered. People usually give him hives with their horrible ability to be too noisy, smelly and inappropriate at the same time. 

He’s supposed to read his book but Loki finds himself unconsciously peering over the edge of the paperback more often than he’d like to. He usually doesn’t even regard his customers with a frosty glare until they decide to buy something.  
But somehow he feels strangely drawn to this stranger, ruining his beautiful wooden floor as he is. It must be something about the aura of calm radiating from him, or the faint smell of good leather that seems to cling to his clothes.  
He can’t quite decide if he finds it annoying or frightening.

Loki is just about to engross himself in the pages of his novel again, when the stranger turns shifting his weight from one leg to the other and the wood of the cabin gives a tiny creek.

 

“This one looks like molten chocolate” the stranger says while eying a glass of clear dark brown honey on the shelf before him.

Loki scoffs. 

“That’s because it’s wild honey” he says and returns to his pages.

He hears the man shift again, apparently blissfully unaware of the shop owner’s deliberately frosty voice. 

“Why is it so dark then?” he asks.

Loki shortly considers if the man is just stupid, but another look over the counter tells him that in reality the guy is genuinely interested.  
Well if that isn’t an enigma.

He stands up, puts his book onto the counter and quietly strides over to the guy. The man is actually a couple of inches taller than Loki und maybe thrice as bulky, nevertheless he doesn’t seem dangerous. Not even dumb as big beefy guys that make Loki want to punch them in the face usually are. No, from this distance Loki can even discern a scent of musk on him that reminds him of the deep peaceful forests he used to play in as a kid.  
He scrunches his nose at the thought and takes the jar of honey from the man’s ginormous hands. Their fingers brush for the shortest of times and Loki feels a jolt up his arm that goes straight to his head.

“This is Aseda Wild Honey. It is so dark because the bees producing this honey collect pollen from cocoa trees. See, it’s actually one of the darkest honeys in the world” he explains in order to hide the red that is creeping into his face and it feels as if the room is too small and tight and just really uncomfortable. 

The man nods slowly but it is obvious that he is about to ask another question and Loki prepares himself for an onslaught of stupidity, mentally already regretting to ever saying anything.

“Why do the bees collect pollen?”

Oh god, Loki closes his eyes so he doesn’t slap himself or the guy. 

“Haven’t you learned anything in school?” he snaps and puts the honey back.

His patience with people has never been great and due to his lack of interaction with them it has always failed him why he should learn.  
This is usually the point where the offended customers huff and sulkily, rather briskly leave his shop to spread word of the hag of a shop owner in the ubiquitous crowd of freezing people.  
Loki doesn’t care. He never does.

“I was home tutored” says the stranger with a smile that shows nothing but all the patience that Loki lacks “sadly I don’t know a lot about bees”

He actually looks a bit embarrassed. Loki draws an eyebrow up.  
“Well…” he drawls the word to try scaring the man off but once again the stranger turns out to be very deaf to his derogatory tone. 

He just keeps looking at Loki with these big blue eyes that seem to have electric currents lighting up the mind behind them.  
Somehow Loki believes that he is that type of guy that will understand you after the first time of explaining.

“Bees collect pollen and also nectar as food” he starts hesitantly “…for their colonies. There are all kinds of different classes of bees for different kinds of work that has to be done in a colony…”

 

An hour later the rain has stopped and Loki notices the stranger is still sitting next to him on the steps leading towards the shelves, still watching and listening to him interestedly, completely engrossed in his tale and lecture about the nature of bees and their role in the modern ecosystem. 

Somehow they have settled on the steps as it is far more comfortable than lurking around while standing. Their elbows touch and the tiny contact spreads warmth through Loki’s whole body. He realizes that he is still speaking and he stops. 

“The rain has stopped” he says instead and the stranger startles. 

Their elbows disconnect. The man looks outside.

“It has indeed” he says and stands up, perhaps hesitating for the smallest of moments, but that could as well be Loki’s imagination.

“Yes” he says and curses his rash change of topic at the same time as suddenly wishing the man to be very very far away. 

Now that he has noticed the change of atmosphere his head and whole body start feeling weird, as if somehow lighter and slightly jittery. He blames it on the weather; he’s probably coming down with something.

The startled look upon the man’s face softens as he catches Loki’s gaze again and the skin around his electric blue eyes crinkle in mirth as he smiles. 

“I should get going then” he says in his deep warm baritone of a voice. Loki involuntarily takes a step back.

“Yeah” he mumbles.

The man suddenly grabs the jar of Aseda Honey and takes it over to the counter. 

“I’ll take this” he smiles and Loki hurries back behind the counter, blankly counting the change as the man puts a bill on the tabletop.

“Thank you” the man says “for the lovely afternoon”

The little bell above the shop door rings in the cold winter sun as the man leaves in a blister of frosty wind and the faint scent of leather and musk.

Loki stands for a long time, reveling in the warm feeling left in the wake of the encounter. Only when he closes the shop for the day he realizes that he doesn’t even know the man’s name.

~*~

Loki doesn’t see the stranger in the next few days. He finds himself looking up at the slightest smell of leather in his shop or the slightest change of atmosphere though, a hopeful look spreading across his face only to find elderly ladies or weird hobos loitering around the cabin. He sends them icy glares that look like they could kill and bends his head back down to the book he has continued to read for about a page since the stranger came upon his doorstep. 

It becomes annoying, this inclination to break his usual concentration and cold demeanor, this longing for a perfect stranger he has only talked to for an hour. Something is different now; he feels it in this space in his heart that normal people use to hold their emotions.  
Loki doesn’t think he’s ever used it on other people before, only on bees until now. It’s weird and annoying and Loki can’t quite decide if he despises or loves it.

A week passes and then the snow comes. It comes slowly, carefully as if trying to not let any living soul notice its arrival until every house and every building, every tree and every landscape is covered in a thin layer of fluffy white snowflakes.  
It doesn’t stop there. The snow keeps falling and falling, until the city has turned into the kingdom of a snow queen and white is everything that can be seen. 

Winter has truly come to the country and Loki watches bemusedly as the cold breath of winter paints wild patterns and dreamy fantasies out of thousands and thousands of ice crystals onto the clouded windows of his shop.  
He’s alone today, most people having gathered around the multiple stalls that sell mulled wine and other hot beverages, around the blacksmith’s fire and the warm pavilions that serve food and sweets.  
He thinks about going back to his hotel room as he doesn’t have the patience to wait hours and hours for no one to come. 

No one wants to buy honey when there is snow and alcohol out there. He grabs the keys to the door and crouches to collect his bag from the floor when the doorbell tinkles and the delicate smell of leather and musk invades his nose and the sound of heavy leather boots on wood sound across the cabin.  
A wave of jittery nervousness passes over him as he remains crouched behind the counter, wondering if it’s just another old lady with a new leather bag.

“Hello?” a deep voice fills the silence. 

It sounds as if there is thunder rumbling underneath a calm demeanor but at the same time not planning to break out. It’s the voice Loki’s been unconsciously waiting for a week.  
He quickly rises from his not-hiding spot and coughs slightly in indignation.

“Where have you been?” he sort of snaps at the man standing a little lost in the middle of the shop, his hand buried deeply inside the pockets of his coat. 

He’s dry this time, only some snowflakes adorn his head and his blond hair is held back by two thin braids that connect at the back of his head.

The man tilts his head and spots him. 

“I’ve been visiting some friends in another city” he says mildly and suddenly Loki feels stupid for snapping at him. 

His natural reaction to shame is to give his opponent the deadliest glare he can produce but as he should probably know by now, the stranger is immune to looks that could kill.

“Well… it’s not like I’ve been waiting for you” Loki says and feels dumber with every word but he can’t stop his mouth from working on its own “but you…”

There is a lot of awkward silence in which only a quiet buzzing from the crowds outside can be heard.

“I um… I wanted to ask you if you wanted to come out for a drink” the stranger ends the silence and Loki latches at the opportunity to stop the general awkward tension that has in a matter of seconds filled the room to the brim.

“Yes, yes, I want… I mean I’d like to… come out for a drink. With you…” he says and immediately disappears behind the counter to gather some money and hide the brilliant shade of red that is definitely creeping across his cheeks. 

He rubs his face with both hands and wonders how that man could make him lose his dignity so fast.

They exit the shop and the cold air embraces Loki as he looks around for the first time since the snow has started falling.  
The Christmas market has turned into the capital of the snowy kingdom created by winter and the multicolored lights and lampions are the colorful lanterns of a Yule festival of a world born from dreams and fantasies. It’s already dark but that only adds to the magic of the scene as the lights dance across the stark white of the snow.  
Yes, there is no other word for it Loki muses. It’s truly magical.  
He can’t help but feel a little entranced by the scene.

“I’m afraid I haven’t caught your name” the stranger suddenly says from beside him and Loki realizes that indeed, he too still doesn’t know anything about the other man. 

_What am I doing_ he thinks. 

He shouldn’t be here talking to a person he has only known for an hour, he shouldn’t have left his shop and exposed himself to this disgusting Christmas spirit. He shouldn’t have taken the offer in the first place. 

He can’t go back. Almost as if the pheromones the bees use as a mean to relay messages amongst each other, his heart has caught onto something from inside the stranger and it doesn’t want to let go. It can’t let go after Loki has so carelessly exposed it to the world.

“Loki” he says quietly but the man hears him.

“Thor” he says and Loki thinks the name fits him utterly and completely perfect.

Thor leads him to a slightly lesser crowded stall and buys them two kegs of steaming honey mead. They stand in silence facing each other and sip at their drinks but this time it’s a comfortable silence unlike the one when they were inside the cabin. 

“You know a lot about bees” Thor says with this warm smile of his “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone that could talk quite as fast and enthusiastic as you do when it comes to things that do not concern themselves”

Loki scowls at the thought. 

“That’s the problem” he says “people only think about themselves”

He watches Thor’s face first scrunching up a bit than relax in understanding.

“Most people” he corrects himself, after swallowing a mouthful of mead.

“I guess you just have to find the ones that don’t” Thor muses and does that head tilt again that makes Loki feel fluttery.

“You do” he mumbles.

They start talking about inane things at first, about how the sun sets so fast in winter and how the cold seems to not bother the people including them at all. They talk about the snow then, about how when you look closely you can see the dance of the tiny snowflakes across the world. About the smell of wood in a fireplace in midwinter and the cool sensation of frost on skin when you walk through the forest in the morning. 

Somehow one keg of mead becomes ten and Loki doesn’t quite know if the warmth inside his stomach comes from the drink or from what he feels towards Thor.  
He might be a bit drunk, but he doesn’t care. He hasn’t talked to anybody this long and amicably in what feels like forever, maybe never. He has only known Thor for a few hours by now and already he has fallen head over heels for this strange man. He wonders if this is what one calls love.

And he knows that Thor is just as a stranger to him than he is to Thor. They don’t know anything about each other. 

But then Loki feels as if he doesn’t need to know anything about Thor, the only thing he needs to know is that he is here and Thor is here with him. He must have gone crazy.

It’s almost nine o’clock when Thor frowns and looks into Loki’s eyes deeply.

“Why do you despise people so much?” he asks, his voice full of questioning.

Loki could give countless examples for why people are horrible things but then he sees Thor and suddenly he realizes that he’s been as much of an asshole to them as they have been to him and actually, they have never really bothered his solitude.  
He realizes that there may be a lot of people like Thor, who are willing to listen and tolerate assholes like Loki without getting angry. He sees that he is in no position to judge humans as if he were some kind of god.

“I don’t know” he says after a while and looks down towards his steaming mug “I just… I don’t know…”

“Okay…?” says Thor hesitantly but he drops the topic as quickly as he started it and Loki is infinitely thankful for it. 

“Why’d you become a beekeeper” he questions instead and Loki empties his cup and pays for another.

“My parents were beekeepers and I guess I just inherited everything” he says and flinches as Thor’s expression darkens at the word “inherited”.

“What happened” he asks and raises an eyebrow at him.

Thor doesn’t answer immediately but when he does it is with a small and very sad smile. 

“It’s a long story. I don’t think I’m ready to tell it yet”

“Okay” Loki says. He can appreciate that. As unsocial as he usually is, Loki knows when to keep his distance.

“If… if you want to talk about it sometime… I can listen…” he murmurs and this time can’t quite conceal the blushing. He hasn’t even bothered to bring a scarf. 

Thor gives him a brilliant smile, the sadness almost completely vanishing from his eyes.

“Thank you, Loki”

Loki freezes and stares Thor in the eyes. He suddenly notices that it’s been the first time since his childhood that anybody has thanked him.

It happens slowly and very fast at the same time. One moment they are staring at each other in silent wonder and then both of them lean in and their lips touch.  
Loki closes his eyes as Thor’s hand comes up to cup his face.

_The high pitched scream of a child pierces the hot air of the summer night._

_“Shut up, stupid brat” hisses the man as he presses his large hand to the child’s mouth and pins the small body to the bed it’s lying in._

_Loki trashes in terror as he feels himself being undressed roughly. The pants of his pajamas hit the floor, his shirt shortly after. It smells of sweat and the evaporations of too many aroused women._

_He bites down on the hand that is silencing him with all the force of his small body and the man screams in pain. He backhands him in the face and Loki falls to the floor, sobbing at the burning sensation in his face._

_“I said shut up” growls the man and kicks Loki in the ribs._

_The child cries out. Tears roll down his reddened face as he curls up into a tight ball._  
 _Large hands force his legs apart and he sobs louder, powerless against the man’s superior strength._  
 _He smells the stench of cheap alcohol as the man leans down and breaths across his face and he shudders in unconcealed terror._

_“Dad”, Loki sobs quietly “dad, stop!”_

_“You’re not my son” the man says and licks a wet trail down Loki’s stomach “you’re just a little runt, brat. Good for nothing”_

_The man’s alcohol covered lips hit Loki’s._

_Loki screams_

“Loki?”

He snaps out of the memory and finds himself in the middle of the Christmas market in winter but it’s like he’s still there in his room all those years ago.

“Loki! Is everything alright?” someone touches his shoulder and Loki snaps.

“GET AWAY FROM ME” he slaps the hand on his shoulder away and bolts.

He’s coming for him, oh god he’s coming for him again and he will use him as his personal toy again and he can do nothing about it. He has to get away before he catches up with him.

He pushes the people from him, they’re everywhere and he can’t breath.  
They are all coming from him, from all sides, there’s no escape. There is no exit, no door, just people and people. He reaches the edge of the crowd and trips and falls face first into something cold and wet.  
Suddenly he is too dizzy, the world is spinning around him and his stomach lurches. 

Someone is yelling his name but he won’t fall for that, not again. He shakily gets up and runs. He runs as fast as he can until he can only hear the ragged sound of his own labored breathing and he falls onto his knee and retches. Tears are running down his face and the wind blows against the wet tracks, smears them in every direction and it’s cold, but he shivers anyway and his heart is beating too fast, his chest feeling horribly constricted and too tight.  
He gasps for air as his body violently fights against him and there’s still the panic clawing with ghastly fingers at his mind. He can feel the man’s fingers between his legs and the taste of vomit on his tongue and a quiet wail escapes his lips as he rocks back and forth on his knees, arms wrapped around himself.

“You’re just a little runt”

“Stop” he sobs quietly into the snow. 

He hears the crunching of heavy boots on the snow and a voice calling his name.

“STAY AWAY FROM ME” he screams, screeches and crawls away as best as he can “STAY THE FUCK AWAY”

“Loki, stop, it’s me!” he knows that it’s Thor calling for him but it’s also his father and so he curls into a fetal position in the wet snow and sobs, his heart hammering away in his chest.

“Leave me alone” he sobs “please leave me alone”

A warm hand places itself on his quivering shoulder and he flinches violently, but the hand doesn’t grab him, just continues to lie there.  
Through his hazy mind he can feel the warmth spreading through his numbed body and he grasps at it with imaginary fingers, blue from the cold, desperate to keep what they have been missing for so long and desperately clinging onto it.

“…eath, Loki. Come on, breath” he hears Thor’s voice from far away and it’s soothing, calm and deep, unlike the rough cold voice in his mind that keeps calling him a runt.

“Can you hear me?” Thor asks and Loki manages a tiny nod. “Good. Come on, take a deep breath, okay?”

Loki breaths in the cold air, once, twice, purging the horrible scent of sweat and arousal from his head. Slowly the images of the summer night fade and he finds himself back in midwinter. 

He’s sitting in the snow, covered in it as he’s trashed around quite a bit. His clothes are wet and so is his face, but he takes a handful of snow and rubs it in his face anyway. It calms him down. 

Thor is a solid presence beside him, his big hand still resting on Loki’s left shoulder blade and he’s humming a little song in a foreign language that nevertheless sounds uncannily familiar. 

Loki breathes and watches the snow fall in crystalline flakes from the sky.

 

 

“I didn’t know that ever happened” Loki says, huddled in a giant wool blanket. 

They’re sitting on the stairs of his cabin, several candles lit in front of them. Thor hands him a steaming mug of herbal tea he’s purchased from the tea guy, Loki thinks he caught the name Bruce, next door.  
The man sits down next to him, the wood giving a little creak.

“Maybe you just didn’t want to remember” he says and sips his own tea. 

Their knees are almost touching, but Thor doesn’t close the space. He keeps his distance, only close enough so that Loki can feel his presence beside him as he stares into the mindless swirls of hot liquid in the mug in his hands.

They sit in silence.

It’s just the two of them. Loki takes a sip of his tea and lets the mixture of herbs wash away the taste of vomit on his tongue. He’s getting warm again, but it’s a good kind of warmth, unlike the one buried in his head.  
He doesn’t remember anything of it happen. How long has he lived without this particular memory? Is it true that he’s just pushed it into his subconsciousness until it became part of a long distant nightmare?

He remembers now, every dirty little detail and it takes a lot of self-control to prevent his body from shaking and his heart from racing.

He feels as if he should tell Thor. He hasn’t really talked to anybody for long in a long time and he hasn’t missed it until this conversation with Thor this evening. He misses it now. He’s been a loner for so many years that the virtue of interacting with living, breathing human beings like himself has fled from his mind.

He feels that Thor will listen, at least he hopes. Why else would he still be here with him? There is no anger or annoyance radiating from his, just genuine concern and Loki embraces it with all his might, because maybe he’s been so secluded because there was no one to show concern for him and he just maybe needs this the most.

“I think I despise people because they allowed me to get raped by my own fa-… adoptive father and didn’t do a thing” he starts quietly.

Thor listens.

“I think… the only creatures I’ve ever found out to be unjudging, to be indifferent when faced with different kinds of other creatures…” he swallows drily and takes another sip of tea. 

It’s too hot but only at this temperature do the herbs betray the treasures hidden beneath their vegetable exterior. Loki has always found it hard to forget whatever crossed his mind. He can’t really forget a second time he thinks, so he just as well might bleed it all out.

“My adoptive father had his suspicions when I first entered my new home” he continues “I’ve been very careful to tread around him like on pussyfoots, I don’t think he ever wanted me at all. I don’t think my adoption had had his consent, really. It must have been something about a certain reputation and mother not being able to carry life in her herself. 

However if there was one thing I was good at, he liked to make me think I wasn’t really good at anything, it was keeping bees. Mother taught me how to keep bees when I was four and she continued to teach me until the day she died…

The bees were always calm around me, you know how sometimes even the most experienced beekeepers have to deal with the anger of a swarm, because bees aren’t naturally calm, they’re always buzzing and working and if there is one thing trespassing the cycle of their short lives oh they would be angry. 

But they weren’t around me. I spend a lot of time with the bees, probably even more than I actually spend at home. Because when I was there, the bees would just… You know when you turn the radio on just between two stations and there’s just white noise? It’s really calming. And I would sit and sometimes I would work and all around me there would be this buzzing white noise that tuned out everything else.  
There was nothing else, do you get me? Bees aren’t like people, they protect what is theirs and what they do is reasonable and I understand and that’s why I’ve always preferred their company over the company of people.

I was loved by the most erratic creatures on earth... just like I was loved by nothing else”

“What about your mother?” Thor says “you can’t say that she didn’t love you”

“Oh she loved me” Loki breaths and huddles his blanket. 

Actually it’s not his blanket, it’s the scruffy and ratty old thing the obnoxious blacksmith from next tent uses to keep himself warm when it’s snowing and his oven isn’t fired up.  
It’s kind of scratchy and smells faintly of grime, oil and the negligence of deodorant, but it does do a great job in being warm, so Loki dismisses its repulsiveness. 

“She just loved her husband too”

Thor remains silent after that.  
He quietly empties his own mug of tea, then stands up and leaves Loki’s side and Loki is already starting to panic again because he thinks Thor will leave him alone with his thoughts and that he’s scared the man off, when he comes back and sits down again.  
He’s just put away his mug.  
Loki feels stupid. Thor makes him feel stupid way too often. But that’s okay because he realizes that without Thor he is empty.

The man’s gaze is pointed unswervingly downwards as if he is trying to fixate the swirls of wood, his shoulders tense and drawn up. With the way the faint candle light falls across his face he looks a hundred years old and weight down by too many sorrows.

“I ended up here because I ran away from home” he says quietly and gravely “my father is the CEO of Asgard Corporation and he wanted me to inherit his place as CEO. Our opinions diverged too much.”

Loki feels that there is much more beyond that simple statement than what can be heard alone, but he doesn’t inquire. Thor will tell him when he’s ready. He’s certain of it.

“What I want to say” Thor goes on “is that finding the perfect family is a virtue not foreseen for a lot of people. People are brash, they hurt each other willingly, are volatile and lash out just for the sake of seeing other people being hurt. Society tries to force you into roles that you won’t ever fit in and because you don’t they condemn you. One grows tired of it. I understand why you would start hating them all.”

“But you don’t”

“I… learned it the hard way. But no, I don’t”

“I don’t understand” is everything that comes out of Loki’s mouth. 

Thor looks at him and smiles. 

“Can I?” he asks and shuffles a little closer. Loki nods and Thor pulls him into a hug. 

“Your father was an asshole” he whispers gently into Loki’s ear “but not all people are”

Thor is big and warm and Loki closes his eyes and rests his head on top of his broad shoulder.

“I can tell” he says and they stay like that.

~*~

It’s the day before Christmas and the last day of the Christmas market. Loki’s shop is crammed with customers and it seems as if he’s selling more honey than in all the other days combined. Coat clad people are rushing in and out and Loki finds himself yelling at little brats that attempt to steal jars from the shelves more often than not.

He’s so busy stopping thefts that he doesn’t even notice the two men in front of his counter until one of them gently taps the wood. 

“What?” he snaps at the man. It’s the blacksmith and the guy from the tea and spices shop.

“Whoa” the blacksmith says and scratches his crazy beard “someone woke up at the wrong side of the bed today”

“What do you want, I’m busy here” Loki retorts and his temper is rising at the man. Guy must think he’s so cool.

“Hey hey, I just wanted to ask if-… man, are you always this grumpy?”

“Tony…” the tea guy says.

“Fine, okay. I wanted to ask if you still have some of that honey schnapps left? Heard that stuff’s going away like crazy”

Instead of answering Loki just hauls another basket of honey schnapps onto the counter. The blacksmith, Tony –what an obnoxious name-, puts the money on the table, uncaps a bottle and chugs the whole thing in one go. Loki blinks. He’s seen a lot of phony people do that and regret it the instant they realized how strong the brew actually is.  
The tea guy –Bruce he remembers- sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. Loki can relate.

“Wow, that shit’s good” Tony beams and pulls out this purse “I’m claiming this basket. Did you distil that yourself?”

“Yes” Loki says pointedly and accepts the bills handed to him. 

Tony claps his shoulder. “My respect, honey. I couldn’t do it better, well I probably could if given enough time and practice but sadly I don’t have the resources.”

“Ignore him” Bruce says. His voice is quiet and gentle, like the voices of people that don’t want to be in the spotlight “he does that with everybody”

Loki just nods, slightly disturbed. Then he remembers the blanket and he puts it onto the counter.

“Uh, thanks for borrowing me that. And for the tea.” he murmurs to no one in particular and why is he blushing again?

Bruce just smiles and Tony looks like he’s going to be the next star of Bethlehem. 

“No problem” they both say in unison and it’s strange in a very… endearing way. 

Tony accepts the blanket, stops and suddenly turns serious. 

“You okay now?” he asks.

Loki shrugs. “I’ll be okay”

“That’s good.” Bruce says and then there is loud shoe tapping from an angry old man in the queue.

“That’s our sign” Tony says, grabs the blanket and basket and drags Bruce away, who gives Loki an apologetic smile.

“Come by some day, you can teach Brucy here the art of starring nosy idiots to hell” he hears Tony yell over the crowd. He snorts and continues to sell his honey.

 

 

He meets Thor at the archery and knife throwing stand, where a man with bare feet and a woman with fiery red hair are demonstrating their mad skills with weaponry.

“Hey” Thor rumbles and smiles in this way that makes Loki feel weirdly floaty.

“Hey” Loki murmurs awkwardly. They set out.

 

 

“You can help me break down the shop. Later. If you want” Loki says when they wander over the bridge over the frozen river. 

They’re not really having a destination, it’s almost Christmas and Thor’s told Loki that he’s not in the mood for anything big and Loki can relate to that.  
Others are running around town trying to find last minute Christmas presents, so it’s just the two of them on the bridge in the early afternoon.

“Gladly” Thor says in that strange way of articulation of his.

“I haven’t got a Christmas present for you” Loki suddenly remembers and he feels as if he should get a present for Thor. 

After all, Thor’s been there with him when nobody else ever did before.

“I haven’t got one for you either” Thor frowns and sounds embarrassed “I should go find one”

“No no, it’s okay” Loki stops him from turning on his heel and throw himself into the search for a present “I don’t need a present” 

I’ve already got you that’s enough for me he adds in his head because it sounds to sappy to say it out loud but Thor seems to think the same and somehow their hands touch and Loki lets Thor intertwine their fingers.  
It’s funny how over the course of only two or three days skin contact has become so nonchalant to him. But perhaps it’s just with Thor.

The thought of having to leave the Christmas market and returning to his secluded home is a pang in his heart, not because he likes it so much here, but rather because he’ll be alone again.  
He has never thought about the concept of love before, but now that he knows how it feels to be loved, to be genuinely wanted by someone who enjoyed his company; he feels unwilling to ever leave this newfound bliss.  
It’s not just for the sake of being loved, but also because he is needed.  
Some people like his honey. Some people, as weird as they are, like the things that he has crafted with great diligence.  
And some people want to have them in their life.

Loki notices how close they are standing now, unknowingly having moved so that their chests are almost touching and he looks up to meet Thor’s eyes.  
He looks nervous.

“May I?” he asks cautiously and Loki swallows. 

He doesn’t know to be honest.  
He wants to kiss Thor so badly it almost hurts his head but at the same time he is unsure whether the contact will trigger another flashback. He doesn’t want to make anybody worry ever again.

Thor interprets his silence as a decline. 

“If you don’t want to I can always wait” he says, surprisingly calm about the fact that he seemingly just got refused by Loki, even though his shoulders slump a bit.

“No, wait! I didn’t mean to… I don’t…” Loki takes a deep breath “Please give me a moment” 

That makes Thor smile again and god, Loki wants to make Thor smile all the time. He also wants to hit himself for being such a sappy idiot.  
He takes another few breaths and clears his mind from the fine mist of doubt that heavily tinges his thoughts. Heart beating right out of his chest he nods and very gently, almost fleetingly they close the distance between them.

Loki closes his eyes, breaths in Thor’s scent and relaxes under his soft lips and his head is filled with musk and cologne and Thor. Slowly he wraps his arms around the taller man at the same time the other cradles Loki’s head in his hands.

It’s not like the kisses you read about in books. It doesn’t turn dirty after a while and nobody gets rough or demanding.  
It’s just a tiny connection of lips between the two of them and at the same time it is so much better because Loki can feel the life radiating from Thor and he knows that this is not just a platonic relationship based on wrong moments. They press so close that it feels as if Loki’s body and energy is merging with Thor’s.  
This moment is theirs and theirs alone.

“Spend Christmas with me” Thor whispers and Loki opens his eyes. 

“Someone has to look after the bees” he whispers back, reluctant to let the moment pass.

“I understand” Thor similarly reluctant agrees but doesn’t let go of Loki.

They huddle close and Thor gently starts to sway their bodies back and forth like some sort of dance. Loki puts his head into the crook between Thor’s neck and shoulders and sighs. 

Then he has an idea. It is rather simple.

“I could go back for Christmas Eve” he says “and then I can still visit you. Christmas isn’t over on the 25th”

“It isn’t” Thor beams and suddenly he has Loki swooped into his arms and spun around in a half circle. 

He yelps and squirms but Thor’s already putting him back on his feet. He sways for a moment and grabs at Thor’s arms to straighten himself.  
He’s laughing he notices. There’s snow in his face. 

“Where do you live?” he asks and laughs at the stupidity of it “I don’t even have your number”

“I can give you both though”

“Now?”

“Now”

They exchange phone numbers and addresses.  
Thor lives in the city, not far away from the business borough. Loki finds himself wishing it was the day after Christmas Eve already.

It has started to snow again and the big white flakes settle on their hair and clothes like fuzzy glitter and turn their noses red with the cold. Thor brushes some flakes off of Loki’s head and tilts his head.

“Smiling suits you” he grins.

Loki smiles up at the sky and reclaims Thor’s hand.  
Some people kind of are like bees he thinks.  
They’re not like other people. They’re not cold and calculating. They are energetic and kind and love with a burning passion. And when they attach themselves to something they won’t let go. They’ll protect that one thing with their heart and soul.  
And there aren’t a lot of people like that.

Some people never find this particular person. Through a couple of strange incidences Loki thinks he might have.  
It’s not something he’s said a lot in the past but…

“I’m happy” he says and he means it.

“Me too” Thor rumbles and pulls him closer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

~ four months later ~

“You could have told me you lived with these two idiots” Loki grumbles as he is being wedged between Thor, Bruce and Tony on the couch.

“Come on” Thor laughs heartily “they’re my neighbors. We don’t actually live together”

“They’re here more often than in their own homes” Loki scowls as Tony wriggles particularly extravagant.

“No, we’re not” the man downrightly lies and gets up to open the door as the bell rings.

“We’re friends. Can’t I have friends?” Thor looks like a kicked puppy and now Loki feels bad. 

“Of course you can” he says quickly and looks away, but Thor just hugs him and he squeaks in a much undignified manner. 

There is a strangled laugh from Bruce and Loki blushes madly just as the newcomers burst through the living room door.

“People are having fun without me, what happened with society?” exclaims Natasha as she drags Clint into the room. 

“Someone seen my sock?” the guy says totally out of the random. Loki sighs rather dramatically.

“Oh nonononono” now Tony the obnoxious comes back with a bag of Doritos in hand “wait till the two grandpas arrive. They may look nice and innocent but wait till they kick your ass at Cards Against Humanity. No, Natasha, you’re evil, you don’t count”

Natasha flicks a pillow in Tony’s direction.

“Grandpas?” Loki asks.

“They dress like guys from the seventies” Clint explains while he tosses pellets of paper into an empty glass “and they talk like that too. Nobody knows if they’re actually Amish or not. But you’ll like them. At least Steve. I mean, everybody likes Steve. Just like everybody likes Thor”

Thor laughs and grabs for the Doritos. Tony dodges, loses his balance and buries Bruce under him.

“My glasses!” Bruce yelps his voice muffled.

“You’re just very hard to dislike” Loki says as Thor finally conquers the Dorito bag and offers it to Loki.

“You guys are like polar opposites” Natasha muses, huddling with Clint on the armchair “which crazy deity made you two meet?”

_Not your Business_ he almost wants to say but leaves it because Natasha manages to look decidedly deadly in the lace dress she’s wearing. 

“So what are we watching?” she changes the subject and catches the paper pellet Clint tosses at her.

“I’m in the mood for some robot action. We’ve been only watching stupid love films recently” the man complains “calling dibs on Pacific Rim”

Everybody agrees and Clint whistles approvingly.

Thor has started to comb his fingers through Loki’s hair, he doesn’t even know when the black strands got so long. He leans into the touch and Thor leans down to peck a kiss onto his brow. 

“Are you trying to seduce me?” Loki teases and Thor chuckles.

“I might be trying to tell you that I love you”

“Well, then I’d say I love you too, you buffoon”

“Ew, public affection” Tony croons. Loki ignores him.

“My friends are idiots” Thor whispers and Loki shortly wonders if Clint is starring like this because he’s reading lips “but I bet you like them anyway.”

He does.


End file.
